Tirey
by MushroomT
Summary: What I like to think of as a story of Tsu'tey's past. Enjoy.


My first memory is of saffron. Immense, limpid saffron eyes, wide-set and oval like the sun, shining just as brightly. They are close to my face, almost frighteningly so, and yet not, because from somewhere in the dark places of my spirit, I had seen them before. I can feel muscles in my face, around my jaw, tightening, and suddenly, my teeth could be seen. I would later learn that what was happening to me was that I was smiling, but, as a baby, I did not quite understand. But I liked the way I felt, so I kept it up. At the sight of this, the saffron eyes took on a completely different edge; they shift, as sand, and brighten, as the sky, into a bright gold. The black in the center grows shiny and large, and now, as the eyes draw back from my face, I can see that this person was smiling, too.

All of a sudden, I was able to identify those eyes, and the flying feeling in my chest and stomach grew even stronger. This was _Sa'nok_. Mother.

I wriggle happily, reveling in the smoothness of the ferns that cradle me. Mother looms over me, still smiling. She is so tall; I am so small.

Mother's smile is so wide that it appears as though it will overtake the delicate bone structure of her cheeks. She seems to dance in a small circle, her feet flying about as lightly as flower petals. Mother throws her head back, her beads clinking.

"Mo'at, Ateyo! Come!"

My eyes turn to the vines covering the entrance to the small room I was inhabiting. In step two Na'vi, one being a woman I've never seen before, and one a man that I can feel in my soul. The woman's upward-slanting eyes glitter when she sees my smile; they are closer to green in color, rather than the bright yellow-gold of usual Na'vi eyes. She does not smile back at me. Instead, she stands, upright and proud, and scrutinizes me. The man, Ateyo, trots in, his strides long and light. Father. He's unusually tall, although not very imposing. Ateyo is skinny--a few ribs even show--and his hair is very long, falling almost to his tail, which is longer and thicker than average. His hair is silvering at the roots, and there are wrinkles around his eyes. He is nothing like _Sa'nok_--he is old, gray, and she is young, bright.

Or, at least, that is how I saw it.

"Isn't he handsome, Mo'at?" Mother exclaims, smiling her biggest grin again. "His name is Tsu'tey. Look at his arms! He will be very strong one day."

Mo'at's eyes grow hard and flinty as she folds her arms over her chest. "Yes, with a father like his, little Tsu'tey will one day be quite the warrior."

Father's face is taken briefly by a shadow, which flickers and makes his eyes dark and his expression grim. When Ateyo sees me looking at him, he straightens and smiles.

Mother, on the other hand, has drawn her lips back in the faintest of snarls, crouching slightly. "Ateyo is an outstanding man, hunter, and warrior."

"I never said he wasn't," Mo'at grumbled, suddenly pulling a very small blade out from a sheath around her neck.

Mother steps to the side and shields me with her body. I can no longer see Mo'at, but I can picture her displaying a somber yet somehow pensive look as she glares at my mother.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mother asks.

"You know how things are done, young one," Mo'at says, and this time, her voice is soft and gentle, but with undercurrents of sharp daggers of pain. I squirm uncomfortably, not liking the emotions my mother was emitting.

"He'll be fine, love," Ateyo murmurs softly. His voice is weak and tired, near defeated, but I like it. It sounds like home, like peace, like steady, eons-old power. He steps behind my mother and scoops me up with his spindly arms.

He cradles me as tenderly as a mother would, looking down into my face and whispering soothing words that I can barely make out.

"This will only hurt a bit, son," he says. "You can be strong, right? Be brave."

With that, he gently takes one of my small hands in his large, withered ones, and turns it over. My palm is soft and will not be calloused by hard work for a long time yet; my wrist is a lighter shade of cerulean than the rest of me.

Mo'at steps forward, her blade shining. With the slightest amount of pressure, she draws it lightly over the flesh of my arm. Quickly, a thin red welt appears, oozing slight crimson. It doesn't exactly hurt; no, it's more like a quick shock--electrifying, real. Alive. This was proof that I was alive. And that my life could be taken away, just like that.

Gingerly, Mo'at brings the blade to her full lips and wipes it just across them. She licks the blood away slowly, almost thoughtfully, and her eyes turn upwards and close. It is as if she is savoring a delicious meal.

We stand like that for what seems like many heartbeats, Mother glaring at Mo'at with her hands on her hips, Ateyo dabbing at the cut lightly with some cloth, and Mo'at, the Tsahik, calmly tasting my blood.

When her gold eyes finally re-open, there is new light in them. Her face is less strained, and finally, finally, she smiles. Light flames over her cheeks and her ears prick.

Mother cocks her head, but Ateyo seems to understand Mo'at's sudden change in demeanor.

"Mo'at…what is happening?"

The Tsahik smiles, licking her lips clean of the last drops of blood. She sheaths her knife and pats Ateyo on the shoulder, then turns and embraces Mother, who returns the gesture stiffly.

Mo'at grins again, this time half-way, creeping up on one end of her face. "Your Tsu'tey. I have tasted it in his blood. He has been chosen by Eywa for my Neytiri."

**Hope you enjoyed it. I know this chapter is short, but it's just a prologue and later chapters will be longer. I just wanted to set up some basics. leave any questions in a review :) Oh, and reviews without questions are appreciated, too! Thank you for reading; I'll try to update soon.**

**--MushroomT**


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